


How Long?

by TheAsexualofSpades



Series: Softness Isn't Weakness [2]
Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Overstimulation, Panic Attacks, Protective Natasha Romanov, baby spider, momma spider, the anxiety kind not the sexy kind
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:26:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27200404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheAsexualofSpades/pseuds/TheAsexualofSpades
Summary: Pretty much every time FRIDAY pops up a panel in her room, Natasha doesn’t pay a lot of attention because typically it’s something she knows already.Not this time.
Relationships: Peter Parker & Natasha Romanov
Series: Softness Isn't Weakness [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1985701
Comments: 7
Kudos: 152





	How Long?

**Author's Note:**

> thanks to the nonny on tumblr that requested this! It's been a while since I actually looked at that drabble so it was nice to read it again ^_^

**Prompt:** okay so in one of your quarantine drabbles you write about peter having a sensory overload i think and nat asks "how long?" and then she finds out it isnt long for peter and basically im saying id love to see the aftermath of peter's long episodes- maybe he like walks into a movie night where the other avengers are hanging and didnt tell him to try and let him sleep or something? idk it may be stupid i just thought it might be cute

* * *

Pretty much every time FRIDAY pops up a panel in her room, Natasha doesn’t pay a lot of attention because typically it’s something she knows already.

Not this time.

The window pops up as Natasha comes out of the bathroom, twisting her hair into a braid. It shows Peter sitting quietly by himself on the couch in the common room.

“FRIDAY, is Natasha in her room?”

“Yes.”

She expects Peter to get up and start walking towards the elevator but instead, he stays on the couch, twisting his hands together.

“…do you think she’d be okay with me going over?”

“Yes.”

He still doesn’t get up. Oh, Peter.

Natasha sighs and tosses the comb back onto the sink. Once arriving at the Complex, she’d had a feeling that this might happen. Considering how Peter had vanished into the lab within five minutes of arriving and only now, three hours later, has he emerged, it’s less of a feeling now.

“Do you—“

“Stop stalling, Peter, and _go._ ”

Thank god for FRIDAY, hmm? She’s pretty certain if anyone else had tried to say that to him it wouldn’t’ve worked. The screen closes as Peter gets up with an: “okay, okay, I’m going.”

Natasha sits down on the bed and presses her hands together under her chin. “How bad is it?”

“Bad,” the AI summarizes helpfully.

“Okay,” she breathes, getting up and going to the closet.

She opens the doors and reaches up, looking for the thick comforter. She pulls it down. Perfect. It’s nice and soft and thanks to being up on the top shelf it’s nice and cool. Spreading it over the bed, she straightens up just in time for the soft chime of the door.

Natasha pulls on the fluffy grey cardigan and goes to answer. Peter looks so much smaller standing swamped in his pink sweater than he did on the cameras.

“Ms. Romanoff?” _Oh, dear._ “Are — are you busy?”

“Come in, Солнышко,” she says instead, stepping aside.

Peter smiles — or at least the corners of his mouth quirk up a little bit — and walks through the door, glancing around the room. There isn’t anything Natasha can see, which means Peter’s not alright.

Obviously, we knew that, and we didn’t need the confirmation.

“Of course,” Natasha said. She closed the door. “What’s going on, Peter?”

'I just, um, wanted to see how you were settling in for the night—“

“Peter.”

Peter freezes. Then he looks over at Natasha, and swallows hard. “…sorry, habit.”

“I know.” Peter hides very well behind civility and the service mask. It’s the hardest one to take off, especially when it works so well.

“… _are_ you settling in okay?” Case in point. Natasha’s about to chide him when she catches sight of Peter’s face. “Please?”

Natasha’s known Peter long enough to know what he’s _really_ asking. “I’m just here relaxing, Peter, you’re not interrupting anything. I just got out of the shower when you arrived.”

“…thanks.”

She reaches out, offering her hand. Peter nods. She takes him lightly by the arm and tugs him toward the bed. “Now, what’s wrong, Солнышко?”

Poor Peter looks like he’s about ten seconds from falling over. He tries to stand up and Natasha’s chest clenches when he wobbles terribly.

“Easy,” she murmurs, catching him by the shoulders and sitting him back down, “talk to me.”

“…it’s…it’s been a really long day,” Peter mumbles, “and I, um…it started at school.”

“I see.” So _more_ than three hours.

“And, um…” Peter hesitates. Then his arms go tightly around his waist. He laughs. For one second. Then it turns into a hitched gasp. It settles like a dead weight in Natasha’s chest.

“Obviously it didn’t go as well as I would’ve liked.”

“…oh, Peter, come here.”

Every single ounce of Natasha’s body is screaming at her to cuddle the poor kid until he can’t cry anymore. She tucks Peter’s head under her chin and works her hand under the iron grip the kid’s got on his own waist to rest on his lower stomach, rubbing softly to ground him.

It starts tensing under her hand and the hitching of his breaths makes Natasha curl her arms around him. _Damn,_ she wishes she were better at this. All she does is clutch Peter closer as he begins to shake, making soothing noises.

“I didn’t know it was gonna be that bad, I wanted—I wanted to get _work_ done today but I couldn’t and I just wanted to—“

“Shh, shh, you don’t have to explain, shh, I’ve got you.”

It takes a while, to neither of their surprises, but eventually, Peter stills and buries his face in Natasha’s neck, nuzzling into the collar of her sweater.

“…thank you for understanding, Nat,” he mumbles.

“Of course,” Natasha replies automatically, running her hand through Peter’s hair. As she feels Peter start to slump, an idea comes to her head. Something to help him fall asleep.

“Hey, listen,” she says softly, giving Peter’s head a little shake, “sometimes when it gets bad for me, I have this ritual of sorts. Can we try it?”

“Um, what is it?”

“Will you lie down on the bed for me?”

It takes a second, which she doesn’t mind at all, for Peter to move out of her arms and crawl to the middle of the bed. He tugs his sweater around him and lays down on his back.

“Here?”

“Perfect.” Natasha smiles and moves closer, swinging a leg to lie over Peter’s calves, still checking that it’s okay. She reaches forward to tug at the edge of Peter’s sweater. “Can I take your sweater off?”

“What are we doing?” Peter blurts out, tugging the sweater closer around himself.

Natasha smiles sadly. Sometimes she forgets that Peter’s still in so many ways just a kid. Even though he’s in so many ways the exact opposite. And right now, he looks every bit the scared kid who just needs a hug.

“I know that you said there’s a bit after one of your attacks, especially a long one,” she murmurs, “where it’s hard for you to remember where your body is.”

“Yeah.”

Natasha leans forward and runs her hand over Peter’s cheek. “In my experience, being close to someone afterward and knowing they care about you, after everything, makes me feel a little more human, a little more like I know I..have a body.”

“Is that why you help Steve with the whole once a week thing?”

“You mean having someone take care of you and make you feel safe and loved which is very important?” Natasha smirks as Peter starts to fumble with his hands and averts his gaze. “Hmm? Is that what you’re asking me?”

“…yes.”

“Yes. Also why I help Steve with it. Apart from the fact that he’s a big blond puppy dog with you, he’s very good at being very pure in his affections and he loves you. So much. We all do.”

And she does have to smile again with Peter giving Steve a run for his money with his puppy dog eyes.

“…what am I supposed to say to that?”

“That you love us too?”

Peter’s face changes to scared almost immediately and he scrambles upwards. “Of course I do, did I — “

“Shh, Солнышко, I’m teasing. Of course, we know.” Peter relaxes and lets Natasha lie him back down. “You don’t have to say anything.”

She can see how hard it is for him to feel like he’s okay to relax if he keeps talking.

“Or talk, if you don’t want to,” she amends.

“Okay.”

The room feels warmer with Peter here, like it’s trying to make itself into a nest. She takes the edge of the comforter and fluffs it, making it look like Peter’s sinking into the blanket. As she works, she starts murmuring softly.

“My ritual is to have someone else just stay with me for a little bit. Just to feel a little more human. So I just want to touch you. That’s it. Physical contact, safe, soft, from someone who loves you. Is that okay?”

She gets a nod, so she takes her hands and gently places them on the sides of his ribcage.

“…I want to touch your skin directly. It’ll help ground you. You can keep your stuff on if it helps. Is that okay?”

Another nod.

“Alright.”

She starts peeling the sweater slowly away from Peter’s body, running her hands over the material, and placing one hand on the little bit of Peter’s waist that she can see under his shirt.

“I think I know where to avoid but if at any time I hurt you or make you uncomfortable you tell me,” she says sternly, “don’t just lie there and take it, alright?” Peter nods. “I’m afraid I’m gonna need a verbal agreement for this one.”

“Yes,” Peter says, “I promise.”

“Good job, Baby Spider.”

“Please don’t touch my wrists.”

“I won’t.” Peter takes the hem of his sweater and balls it up in his fist as Natasha’s hand starts rubbing small circles on his tummy. “You let me know if it gets bad again, okay?”

“I will.”

“Thank you,” she murmurs as she stretches to put Peter’s phone on the nightstand. “Do you want me to talk or stay quiet?”

“…don’t know.”

“Why don’t I start talking,” she says as she resumes rubbing little circles on Peter’s tummy, “and then if you want me to stop, you let me know.”

He nods.

So Natasha starts talking. If she’s being perfectly honest, she can’t really tell what she’s saying, she’s just kind of rambling. She’s much more focused on how her hands run softly over the scars and the marks left on Peter’s skin, and how Peter’s many masks slowly start to slip off, dozing under the warm light.

It’s somewhere in the middle of a story about something Clint did in the middle of their mission to Bucharest — not Budapest — that she notices Peter’s eyes are closed. She smiles softly and lets her voice trail off, only to frown when Peter blinks his eyes open and shifts.

“It’s okay, you can sleep. That’s part of it,” Natasha reassures, giving the upper part of his chest a little pat. Peter shifts back and his eyes close again, a sleepy little murmur quickly muffled by the comforter as Natasha tucks him in. “We love you, Солнышко. Sleep, now.”

“Good night, Natasha,” comes Peter’s little voice from the pile of blanket.

“Good night, Baby Spider. _Sleep.”_

Natasha continues to rub Peter’s arms softly and murmuring quiet words into the hushed room until Peter’s breathing evens out. She trails off again and this time, Peter doesn’t wake up.

**Author's Note:**

> Солнышко - little sun
> 
> Thanks for reading! Come yell at me on tumblr:
> 
> https://a-small-batch-of-dragons.tumblr.com/


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